"Masquerade Cycle - 02 - Nemesis" - читать интересную книгу автора (McGough Scott)

The agent leaped and kicked the spear from Firanu's
hand. Before the elderly elf could go for his knife, the agent
lowered his head and butted him squarely in the chest. The
steel skullcap he wore under his hood connected with
Firanu's breastbone. With a groan, the old retainer pitched
backward over the porch rail.

The sound of the crowd was getting louder. A woman
appeared, a matronly elf with a strong family resemblance
to the dead girl. She saw the shadowy agent, his face paint
adjusted to the gray night.

She screamed, "Kidnap, kidnap! My brother's child is
taken!"

She offered no resistance as he rushed by on his way to
the bridge. He pounded up carved steps three and four at a
time. On either side he could see the glow of lamps
gathering. He ran to a swinging bridge of planks and vines.
Behind him, someone shouted for help.

Elves, some armed, gathered at both ends of the bridge.
One pointed at him and cried out. The agent spared them
a glance and began to run in earnest.

Nothing matters but the completion of your mission. Not
your life, nor the life of any who oppose you.

A spear-wielding elf appeared at the near end of the
bridge. The agent dropped his prize and sprang at his new

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Nemesis

foe. Before the elf could raise his weapon, the wraithlike
agent was on him, bearing him down to the plank floor of
the bridge. They grappled, and the agent used his steelclad
head to bludgeon his enemy into submission. Blood
streamed down the agent's face, mixing with the mimetic
ointment. He rolled the dead elf's body off the bridge and
let it splash in the dark waters below. He picked up the
fallen warrior's spear.

More torch-bearing elves filled the landings at both
ends of the bridge. They were carrying whatever weapons
came to handЧsnake-fang maces, flails, tree-limb